


New Hire

by Turbulent_Muse



Series: Magnusquerade stories [13]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Do Not Archive, Dream Manipulation, Gen, Helen fully embraces monsterhood and Jon is sad, canon character death, use of canon dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turbulent_Muse/pseuds/Turbulent_Muse
Summary: A Magnusquerade fic. Michael loses a fight and Jon and Helen get reacquainted. Set immediately after Severance Package by me.
Relationships: Helen & Jonathan Sims, Michael & Jonathan Sims
Series: Magnusquerade stories [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600123
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51
Collections: The_Magnusquerade





	New Hire

“But you… You never tried to take revenge on Gertrude?”

“She knew how to protect herself. She knew what she was creating. And killing her was not as important. She wasn’t as good an Archivist as you are.”

“So why not kill me before?”

“I had hoped that you would stop the Unknowing first, destroy the workings of the followers of I-Do-Not-Know-You. But instead you are here, and may bring it about faster. So better your death happens now.”

“I-Is there anything I can do to stop you from killing me?”

Michael laughed. “If you scream loud enough the Circus may take notice of me, but… I promise you will die far more pleasantly with me than with them.” He laughed again. “Ah…”

“… Okay.” He didn’t feel like he had any other option, and Michael was probably right. Jon definitely wasn’t looking forward to being skinned. He didn’t know what his death would do to his thralls, but he supposed he’d just have to hope for the best. And maybe it _would_ stop the Unknowing. Surely that would be worth dying for.

“Good. Now, close your eyes, Archivist.” Michael said as he leaned in towards Jon’s face.

Jon, although he was pretty sure he was already asleep and Michael wasn’t physically in the room with him, did as he was told and suddenly found himself standing in in a (literally) nightmarish hellscape of doors and mirrors and bad carpet. Hallways twisted and turned and stretched out endlessly, Jon wouldn’t know which direction to start walking if he wanted to. He sighed. “So much for this being quick.”

“I never promised _quick_ , Archivist.” At the sound of a voice Jon turned around to see a figure that was still recognizable as Michael, but barely. “I merely said more pleasant than being skinned alive.” Michael giggled.

“True.” Jon acquiesced, too defeated for panic.

“Now, let’s start with—” The sentence cut off and morphed into a hideous scream. Jon covered his ears and closed his eyes. When the noise stopped and he cautiously opened his eyes he found himself in a pitch black space whose only feature was a pale yellow door. For a long moment everything was silent and still. “M-Michael?” Jon asked. The door swung open.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Wh… Helen? H-Helen Richardson? But… But y—Michael…”

“I think I… no, I _definitely_ killed Michael.”

“Wha… How…”

“So this is dreamwalking. It’s less impressive from this side of things.”

Jon collected himself. “How are _you_ here?”

“Michael and I both died in the confrontation. Then I came back.”

“He was keeping you as a thrall!”

“Yes.”

“I-I figured you were already long dead.”

“You were wrong.”

“You seem… different.”

“Going mad does that to you.”

“How are you not a starving feral mess?”

“Oh I was, but Michael had other thralls.”

“Oh. I suppose you couldn’t control yourself. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. A predator is what I am now, and they were prey. You should understand that, Jon.”

“… _What?!_ Helen, you were just in the same situation as them, you should feel at least some sympathy!”

“But now I am not like them. Now I am what Michael was. He had no sympathy for his victims.”

“You—You don’t have to be like Michael!”

“I think I do, Archivist.”

They stood there for a silent moment. Jon wiped tears from his eyes.

“So…” Helen started.

“So what?” Jon snapped back.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Are you going to kill me too?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You are not prey. And… I liked you. You listened to me. I will take you home.”

“How do I know this isn’t… a, a trick?”

“And if it was, what would you do about it?”

“… Right. Right.” Jon rubs a hand over his face. “How long have I… b-been here? There’s no… It was hard to keep track—”

“ _Time_ is hard, Archivist. And I have been somewhere where it meant nothing since you last saw me. Maybe Michael knew, I do not.”

“Just now, and once before, you called me ‘Archivist’ like Michael did.”

“Yes?”

“He… He wasn’t just your sire, was he? You’re connected to him in other ways. You have some of his knowledge, some of his memories, some of his _madness_.”

“I do. It happens sometimes when a sire dies. Identity is… fluid in the Spiral.”

“So are you even really Helen? Are you Michael? Neither?”

“Do I need a name? Helen is… better than Michael.”

“Okay.”

“The door is open, if you’re ready?”

“No, not, not really, but…” Jon sighed and followed Helen through the door.


End file.
